


Respite

by hanwritessolo



Series: Something Spaces [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Halloween, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-23 00:27:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12494296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanwritessolo/pseuds/hanwritessolo
Summary: Gladio was supposed to come home tonight after a three-month trip, and to celebrate his return, the both of you had agreed to attend one of the many Halloween parties in the metro. But at the last minute, you receive a phone call from him that changes a lot of things.





	Respite

You were already raring to go in your body-fitting black dress for your sexy bunny costume when you receive a frantic call from Gladio.

 _“Um—hi, shortcake,”_ he says, and with the split second that his voice quivered, it can only mean one thing: _“I’ve got bad news.”_

“Hey, what is it?” you still ask, holding onto that tiny glimmer of hope that this news may not be what your stupid gut is trying to make you think.

 _“So, here’s the thing—”_ he begins, a part of your brain already telling you to brace yourself, and he says— _“I might not make it back to Insomnia tonight. Have to stay here in Altissia for another day. I’m sorry, I know we’re supposed to go to that Halloween gig—I promise I’ll make it up to you when I get back.”_

You’ve seen this coming from a mile away, but as always, hope can sometimes be a stubborn, little thing.

First of all, you’re not at all surprised that Gladio got held up with his work for what could be the hundredth time. He’s been away for three excruciating months and you’re painfully aware that your man has a lot on his plate. Apart from his responsibilities as the commander of the Crownsguard, he pursues to rebuild Insomnia back to its former glory along with King Noctis and the rest of his comrades, one harrowing step at a time. Ever since that fateful meeting ten years ago, Gladio’s unabashed selflessness was one of the many reasons you were drawn to him almost immediately; but with the same degree of his selflessness, the depth and breadth of his duties grew deeper and wider, taking the physical distance between the two of you along with it. With their pursuit to build a better world, he has taken on the burden of dealing with most affairs of the state as he leads the Lucian Council, hence the frequent overseas travel, leaving you alone by your lonesome most of the time in your shared apartment.

But you love him and Gladio loves you, and the both of you know this fact with every fiber of your intertwined beings. However, just because you have accepted these circumstances doesn’t make his absence hurt any less.

 _“Baby, hey—you still there?”_ Gladio’s almost pleading question on the other end steals your worn out train of thought. _“I’m sorry—”_

“It’s okay, I understand. Don’t worry about me,” you say, sounding convincingly chirpy about it even while you pace back and forth the entire expanse of your bedroom. You adjust your phone against your ear, trying to recover from the slight gnawing sadness by teasing him: “And here I was hoping you’ll get to see me wearing this costume I had for you tonight.”

 _“Oh, really now.”_ The sly curiosity in Gladio’s rumbling voice sends electric shivers down your spine. _“Is it the little black dress you wanted to match with the bunny ears?”_

“Yup, the one you bought for me.” You stop to look at your reflection in the mirror. You smile at the fond memory of it that you can’t help but confess, “I really miss you, Gladio. So freaking much.”

 _“I miss you too, shortcake.”_ He returns the sentiment full of longing that he adds, _“While I still have the time, would you mind telling me how that dress looks on you? I really wanna know.”_

Gladio didn't even make an effort to mask the sexual undertone of his words; you’ve known him far too long to understand that he is luring you to another one of his nasty little contests. Luckily for him, two can play that game.

“This dress gives my boobs the perfect push." You didn't even mince that raunchy detail as you flop into the bed, switching the phone to loudspeaker and setting it closer to the side of your head. “And it hugs my curves just right. It’s a bit problematic, though. The skirt is too short—like, if I bend over…”

You drag the last couple of words with come-hither appeal, and you can hear Gladio’s breath hitch on the other side. _“Uh, yeah—okay, and?”_

“Never mind, it’s too embarrassing—”

_“No, shortcake, I wanna hear all about it.”_

“It does strange wonders to my ass. Adds a little oomph. Might bring them boys to the yard, if you know what I mean.”

_“Oh, hell no—that booty is mine.”_

“Oh, hell yes.” You laugh at Gladio’s show of territorial aggression over your butt, and now you find yourself compressing your legs together, and goodness, did that just turn you on?

“But really Gladio, I’m not kidding—my butt looks like a godsend in this little black dress.”

 _“You’re killing me, babe—”_ That groan Gladio makes is enough proof that you’re starting to rile him up, and you find it irritatingly sexy that at this rate, you squeeze your eyes shut, imagining that Gladio is just right in front of you. _“You know how much I love your ass, right?”_

“I know,” you agree, already so incredibly aroused that your own fingers are now tracing its way down your thighs and settling between your legs.

If he keeps talking like this, you’re going to go insane.

_“But you gotta know that I love your pussy just as much.”_

“Gladio!” You almost choke on your own breath, biting your lower lip to control yourself from moaning out loud. Your fingers move on its own, doing away the fabric of your panties, now dipping and rubbing your folds in silent fervor.

_“What? It’s been three months and I miss making love with you like crazy, I miss fucking you so hard and being inside that tight pussy of yours—”_

Well, that certainly does it.

“Oh my god,” your fingers are hard at work when the words came out as a whimper, and it was already too late when you realize it.

_“You're touching yourself right now, aren’tcha, shortcake?”_

“Oh, you know me so well.” You giggle and mewl as you keep moving inside you at a languid pace.

 _“I knew it,”_ he hums triumphantly, obviously pleased with the outcome of his little game. _“Gods, what I wouldn't give to eat you out right now.”_

“Yes, baby,” you moan. “I wish you're here with me.”

There was an unusual silence on the other end; all you can hear is Gladio’s raspy breathing. You shift a little against the sheets, your back bending in pleasure as you fiercely curl your fingers in and out, toiling at the expense of your climax.

You were so extremely occupied and completely unguarded…

By this time, you should have noticed or should have even heard your bedroom door open.

Or at least, paid even the smallest attention to the approaching light-footed steps making its way closer to you.

“Enjoying yourself, shortcake?”

Scared out of your wits and your heart practically punctured out of your chest, you didn’t even get to properly register the face of the man standing in front of you as you stagger to fix yourself, shrieking as loud as you can, your hand instinctively reaching for the bedside lamp and hurling it toward his direction.

“Hey, whoa! Wait—” Your aim may have been shitty but he catches the lamp nonetheless. “Baby, it’s just me!”

You get yourself to somehow kneel on the bed already on a self-defense fighting stance, backing away on the other side. It took two solid seconds for you to realize that the man with his dark hair tied up in a ponytail, sporting a scar-kissed face and a daunting Lucian council uniform is none other than Gladio himself.

“Oh my fucking god!” You yell, the initial fear transforms into a mild annoyance warring with a considerable amount of joy and a whole lot of confusion. “What the fuck?! I thought—you said? What the hell, Gladio?!”

His lips twitches into a smile. “Surprise?”

“Surprise your face, wise ass!” This time you throw a pillow at him. And then a book. And your phone. (Thank the Six for Gladio’s reflexes, he was able to catch it with ease.) Your arsenal of things to throw his way are getting diverse, and the poor man only makes use of his own arms as his shield. “I can't fucking believe you!”

He tries again to reduce the gap between you in an attempt to envelop you in a much needed hug, but instead, you manage to punch him in the chest in retaliation. Not to mention, a whooping series of slaps and swats.

“Hey—ow! Wait, stop—” He lifts his beefy arms to defend himself.

“Gods, I hate you! You fucking fuckface of a jerk you—ugh!”

“Relax—hey! Ow!” A punch lands on his face, but he just laughs in your useless attempt to fend him off. “You just said that you wish I was here!”

“Yes, because I missed you so much that I’m touching myself and you even made me believe that you won’t be coming home tonight, asshole!”

It might seem stupid, but there are tears welling under your eyes. Whether it’s from mindless fear that you were honestly convinced that some stranger managed to break into your apartment and witnessed you masturbating your life away, or from genuine happiness because Gladio’s finally home (really _here,_ physically present, and not just a fap-worthy imagination) and standing in front of you, you can’t seem to decide just yet. Maybe it’s both. But the sight of your face wrinkling and almost at the brink of crying swallows Gladio’s heart in a tide of guilt.

“Babe, hey, I’ve missed you, too—” he draws closer again, but this time, he raises his hands as a gesture of seeking your forgiveness, and slowly you let your guard down—“I’m so sorry, look—I just sort of wanted to surprise you and I didn't mean for that prank to go way out of line.”

You still shoot him a frightening glare. “I hate you so much.”

“You don’t really mean that, do you?”

“Maybe. Sort of,” you huff, and you climb down to sit on the edge of the bed. Gladio sidles up to you, looking absolutely wounded. He never meant to upset you. And then, you say, “And to think I was already so close, you son of a bitch—”

“Wait, hold up.” Gladio considers you for a moment and he quirks an eyebrow at you. "Are you telling me that you hate me because I came in and interrupted you when you were in the zone masturbating?”

“Yes. And the other thing, too—”

“C’mere, you—” Gladio growls and playfully attacks your neck with sloppy kisses, and you fall back into the sheets, him toppling over you. Snatches of laughter erupt from the both of you as he showers you with three month’s worth of smooches and gentle bites, and he wraps his arms around you that his warmth thaws your earlier annoyance.

Besides, you missed him too much to even stay mad at him.

“Gladio—” you try to squirm your way out of him amidst the laughter— “you’re so heavy! And you’re _hard!_ Get off me!”

“Nope, I missed you so much I’m not gonna let go of you.” He plants a kiss on your cheek and eagerly nuzzles his face again on your neck. After a considerable minute of half-wrestling, half-snuggling, he finally shifts his weight to give you your deserved breathing space and you look straight into his amber eyes. “So now, I’ll pick up exactly where you left off.”

“Oh gods, _finally.”_ You instantly pull Gladio by the collar of his uniform to take his mouth for a scorching kiss. He didn't even hesitate; he was starved of your touch and so were you, and now, you both finally find each other’s sustenance.

He briefly detaches from your mouth. “As much as I love you in that dress, I’m afraid we’ll have to get rid of it now.”

“So does your uniform,” you add quickly.

One layer of clothing after another, you help Gladio out of his garments, while he takes one quick zip on your side to slip you out of your dress. And then his mouth is on yours again, his hands already charting your body like a map, revisiting places of your skin that he sorely missed. He spreads your legs apart, and shifts to position himself between your thighs that he grinds on you slowly, tempting you, letting you feel how hard he is for you.

He leans down and hisses against your ear, his hands tugging you out of your underwear. “Let me show you what your fingers can’t do for you.”

You harshly yank his ponytail as you whisper back, “Then show me what you got.”

In a heartbeat, Gladio hauls your legs over his shoulders, and he thrusts himself in, and you feel his size stretch you and fill you up. “Ah, _fuck—_ I missed being inside you.”

He begins to pound his hips at a glacial pace, slowly picking up the speed, and your hands clench around the headboard to keep yourself together in this wretched, aching pleasure. There’s an unspoken yearning in the way your bodies talked; the way he hungrily eases in and out of you, and the way your entire body clamps around him sums up all the burning moments of agonizing absences, of being miles apart, of all the lost time. You mewl his name as he grunts yours, a ringing staccato on repeat, as he fucks you harder and rougher that the bed angrily creaks at the ferocity of each of his thrusts.

 _“Ahh,_ I love you so much, baby,” you whine, struggling to get the words out.

His hands take hold of your legs, sowing soft kisses as he gradually changes the pace. “I love you, too—”

“Fuck, don’t leave me— _ahh—_ again—”

“I won’t, _ugh—_ three months without you— _ugh_ —is a fucking nightmare,” Gladio growls, driving himself faster inside you, burrowing his face on your shoulders. Your body is a warzone of sensations: you’re a shaking mess, mind drowning in desire, hands raking through his hair in searing need to hold him even closer. You both come together crying each other’s name, bruised and beaten by the dizzying pleasure.

Gladio rolls off of you taking you along with the shift; he lands on his back and you on top of him, resting against a thin veil of sweat and the warmth of his chest. You listen to the sound of his ragged breaths and heartbeats. His fingers graze over the curve of your spine; he cradles you close, pressing a kiss on the crown of your head. His hands may be calloused and rough, but Gladio’s touch is capable of gentleness. You missed this, the proximity and intimacy and everything that came in between, and Gladio wholeheartedly feels the same way.

“So.” You look up at him, scooting a little bit closer to his face. “I know we had plans but… I’d love to stay like this with you tonight.”

“I’d love that, too.” He smiles earnestly.

“Also, if I may ask,” you start, your finger tracing little random circles on his chest. “Were you already here when you called earlier?”

“Kind of." He lets out a breathy laugh. “I got here when I asked you what you look like in that black dress. The rest of the call, I was waiting just outside our apartment.”

Your eyes widen. “Oh gods, please don’t tell me you were jacking off _outside—_ ”

“Uh, that…”

“How can you be such a heathen!” It was more of an accusation than a question, and the both of you are laughing with how this conversation is panning out.

Gladio backpedals and says, “I’m only kidding! I was already in the doorway around that time when you were mewling so hard for me.”

Actively dismissing that embarrassing part, you simply egg him on, “So you were really jacking off, then.”

He smile turns into a Cheshire cat grin. “Hell yes.”

“I knew it.” You move closer, cupping his face in your small hands, pressing your lips with his in a gentle kiss.

Gladio gently runs his hand through your hair. “So now, about that promise…”

You stare at him, confused. “What promise?”

“I promised that I’ll make it up to you when I get back, didn’t I?” His mouth quirks into a smirk, and he firmly squeezes your waist as he turns you over the sheets.

You both laugh, and the cheeky glint in Gladio’s eyes tells you that this is going to be one hell of a long night.

 


End file.
